


Of Course I'll Be Here Again (Hankcon)

by majesticdragonair



Series: d:bh reverse au [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Hank Anderson, Eating Disorders, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Pre-Relationship, Russian Roulette Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), that's right y'all; it's a reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 12:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticdragonair/pseuds/majesticdragonair
Summary: Connor was a mess, to say the least.





	Of Course I'll Be Here Again (Hankcon)

**Author's Note:**

> reverse au because i'm trash
> 
> tw for eating disorders. it's explained briefly and is made very obvious that connor has one
> 
> title from addict with a pen by twenty one pilots

A homicide was reported forty-three minutes ago, and Hank had only just arrived at Connor’s small home. He was slightly antsy as he walked to the front of the premises, wanting to quickly get onto the job. He rung the doorbell.

Nothing.

Hank’s lips pulled to a frown and he rung it again, hearing a bark from the inside and heavy footsteps running to the door, but no sign of its owner. Hank sighed softly, unnecessarily, before turning around and walking around the house to figure out another way it. It wasn’t long until he found the kitchen window and, peering in, saw Connor propped up to the kitchen cupboards, looking unconscious.

Hank’s frown deepened, quickly picking up a brick and smashing the window with it. Connor body didn’t react to the sound of smashing glass, nor did he react when Hank made a small run to jump through it. He went to inspect the kitchen, but a bark sounded close to Hank’s left, causing him to pay attention to Connor’s dog.

Connor actually hadn’t shown him any picture of the golden retriever when they first met at the precinct, but Hank could tell his breed by the dog hairs anyway. Hank reached out a flat out for the dog to sniff at, “It’s okay, Grant. Yeah, I know your name, see? I’m going to help Connor, if you don’t mind.”   
  
After Grant seemed pleased with Hank, he wandered back into the living room and jumped onto the couch, and Hank focused on Connor, who still hadn’t stirred. There was empty, tall alcohol bottles littered over half of the kitchen table, the other half being mostly bare except for the trail of small bits of food, not important enough to analysed further. The food was all over the tiled floor in front of Connor, looking to have been pushed down, plates smashed. Hank looked more closely at Connor.

The sergeant, while never looking 100%, looked worse than Hank had ever seen him before. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier that day, black slacks and an untidy white button up, which was half unbuttoned and covered in vomit. Connor’s skin was sickly pale, and his hair was slick was sweat. Hank kneeled in front of him, shaking his shoulders.

“Sergeant?”   
  
Connor groaned softly at the gently shake to his body but did nothing else. Hank sighed, gripped both of Connor’s shoulder and shook more roughly, making sure his head didn’t hit the cabinets behind him. Connor gasped, eyes flying open, and his intoxicated eyes landed on Hank. He groaned.

“Fuck, I’m dreaming of an android,” Connor moaned, head hitting the cabinets on his own volition anyway. Hank felt his lips twitch at Connor’s words.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ⬆

“Sergeant Stern, there was a homicide reported fifty-three minutes ago. I’ve come to get you.”   
  
Connor groaned, head rolling so he could glare at Hank. “Oh fuck, can’t you see I clearly can’t? Can’t you take care of it yourself?”   
  
Hank sighed, before leaning over so he could wrap an arm around Connor’s shoulder blades, using his other hand to grab Connor’s arm and wrap it over his shoulder. “I can’t do that, Sergeant. I need you.”   
  
Connor’s entire body groaned when they were lifted, and he followed with Hank, swaying and attempting to dance out of his grip when they walked through the living room. “Grant, get ‘em!”   
  
The dog didn’t even make an attempt to bark, instead resting his head on the couch armrest and watching with big, brown eyes. Connor chuckled darkly, allowing himself to led down the hallway. “He’s such a good boy.”

Hank only looked at Connor briefly before making his way into the bathroom, light flickering on and causing the police officer to hiss. He groaned when Hank carefully guided him to the bathtub, seeming to melt into the uncomfortable porcelain. He almost looked ready to fall back unconscious, and we can’t have that.

Hank turned on the cold water.

Connor screamed, waking up quickly and flailing horribly. “Oh my god, turn it the fuck off!”

Hank did, seeing the way Connor’s hair now stuck his face by something over than sweat. The colour was slowly draining its way back to the surface of his skin, cheeks slightly red as he panted. He groaned when he looked down at his chest, at the mix of water and wet vomit and glared up at Hank, clearly making up his mind when he suddenly used the edge of the tub to pull himself up. Even so, Hank was still taller by a few inches, but Connor didn’t let that deter him.

“Listen here, you fucking-” He swayed slightly, face going white again, and Hank quickly grabbed him around the waist, the reason Connor was so thin and not filled in suddenly making sense. Before he could say anything about it, Connor pulled from his grip and carefully sat back into the tab, sighing and hanging his head. “Fuck, I’m a mess.”   
  
Hank decided against saying anything, but Connor didn’t give him a chance to, looking up with defeated eyes. “Why’re you here, Hank?”   
  
“A homicide was reported an hour ago, and I couldn’t find you at the bar or at the precinct. I thought coming here would be best.”   
  
Connor sighed. “Right. Of course- oh fuck!” He groaned then, looking as if he wanted to hold both his head and his stomach, instead curling in on himself. Hank found himself sitting on the edge of the tub, reaching out to rest a hand on Conners knee, close to where his forehead was pressed. “Sergeant, if I may-”

“If you’ve got something to say about my eating, Hank,” Connor’s head snapped up with his words, glaring with fire in his eyes. “Than I suggest you keep it to yourself. I already know; I’ve heard it all before. Not like I give a fuck anymore.”

“You should, though,” Hank pressed, even when Connor scoffed. He didn’t make any attempts to swipe away his hand, however. “You could seriously hurt yourself, and-”   
  
“And what, Hank? Huh? Somebody is gonna come running and cry over my hospital bed? Get fucked,” Connor swatted at Hank, attempting to stand. “Look, just- help me out. Can you get me some clothes?”   
  
Hank hesitated, unsure whether Connor should actually pull himself together enough to get to the crime scene, but eventually decided the investigation was important. He stood, walking to the bedroom that was equally as messy as the rest of the home. It stunk of cigarette smoke, and clothes were thrown all over the floor, bed unmade. “What do you want to wear?”   
  
“Don’t care,” Connor replied back, voice slightly strained as he raised it to be heard. Hank grunted and opened the wardrobe, surprised to see a fair amount of outfits hung up and clean. He grabbed the one with a soft, pink button up and grabbed a cream sweater from the floor, checking it to be mostly clean (if not smelling as if smoke was blown through the fabric, it looked straight out of a washer) before making his way back out. 

Connor had gotten up from the bathtub and had even washed his face, looking in the mirror with narrowed eyes and shaking hands. He didn’t look at Hank as he walked in, but eventually sighed when the android placed the folded clothes on the toilet lid, avoiding his eyes. “Thanks.”   
  
“Of course, Sergeant Stern,” He went to walk out, hand catching the door frame before he made his decision, turning back. “And for what it’s worth… Connor, I would be sad if you somehow hurt yourself to the point of a hospital assistance.”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ⬆

He didn’t stay for Connor’s reaction, making his way down the short hall and into Connor’s living room. It looked less messy, and Hank didn’t doubt that was in efforts for Grant to be most comfortable. Hank made his way into the kitchen to clean up the mess of food on the floor. He was, however, stopped by a frame propped up on the kitchen table, facing the living room

It was a picture of Connor, much younger, standing next to a man slightly taller than him. Their faces were exactly the same, if not for the taller man having better kempt hair and blue eyes that pierced stronger than Connor’s. They both appeared to be happy, Connor standing in a blue uniform that resembled a officers; a graduation, it appeared, most likely from the police academy. He didn’t think twice before scanning the face. 

Nines Stern. 15/08/2007 - 15/11/2037.

Hank took the frame and turned it so it was facing down on the wood, quickly cleaning up the space on the floor. He lost himself in the work, and by the time he was putting the last broken plate piece in the bin, he heard soft footsteps on carpet, Connor suddenly walking into view.

He looked… good, to say the least. His skin was still too pale, and if you looked too close to his eyes, he still looked ready to crawl into his grave, but he dressed better than Hank had seen him. He was wearing black slacks, similar to the ones from before, but he was adorned by the sweater, fitting his frame nicely, the collar of the pink shirt folded over the cream. He sighed, before looking at Hank and smiling.

Hank couldn’t help it; he smiled back, and they both made their way out the front door. Hank couldn’t understand why his thirium pump sped up slightly.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ⬆


End file.
